Time Out
by OutCold
Summary: Third in the TIME SERIES. The Poland and D.C. teams are reunited in at a Navy Ball in Washington, with tragic results. COMPLETE.
1. A Single Look

**Disclaimer: If you recognise it from the real NCIS, there are 2 options. a) I don't own it. b) I'm secretly Don Belissario. Those of you who chose option b are correct (in my dreams).**

**A/N: This is set 5 years on from Time Flies, 22 years on from mid-season 6 of NCIS. Third in my beloved Time Series. Co-written with YouGottaSingAlong. She's... an idiot. But a great writer.**

**Oh, other Time Series fics you could read as stand alones, but to know the characters you should read TF before this.**

* * *

Lucas charged past Tash, barrelling into Jamey. He took one look at her and resisted wringing her neck. "Jamey Emily Mulgrew, what have you done to my computer?!?"

Jamey didn't answer at first, but at a glare from Lucas and a snigger from Tash stammered, "I… may have given your systems a little boost."

"A boost! A boost that crashed it and destroyed all my files!"

"That was Tash's fault."  
Tash leapt to her feet, "Traitor!"

"Yeah – "if you tell him I will break all of your limbs", _really _encourages allegiance."

"What did they do to your computer, Luke?"

"Oh, hey boss. Jamey was giving my system a 'boost' – please note the inverted commas and Tash did something which I presume . . . wait . . . you were being sarcastic, weren't you? You don't really care."

McGee smirked and sat at his desk. "Good call, Logan. A little announcement for you all. There's going to be a large NCIS do soon."

Lucas groaned, "Woo hoo. Function. Yay."

McGee, out of sight of Jamey and Tash, grimaced sympathetically at him, while saying aloud, "Suck it up, we all have to go."

-----

Sally Robins grinned at the sight of her best friend, squashed her under a tight and excited hug.

"Jay!"

Jamey spluttered. "Sal."

"It's been forever!"

'Two weeks."

"Forever."

Jamey rolled her eyes, "Forever, I know." She grinned, "Are you ready?"

Sally grinned evilly. "Of course I am. Y'know, I remember having the same problem with your colouring in school." She glanced back at Tash, and whispered, "Are you guys friends?"

Jamey seemed wary. "Yeee-es . . . "

Tash had been watching, but had turned back to her computer screen. As she felt a hand clasp her upper arm, she yelled, "Abby, let go!"

"Not Abby," she was corrected chirpily. "Sally."

A chain was created as the double effort of Sally dragging Tash out of her seat and Jamey attempting to get Sally to the lift before Lucas and McGee got back. Their combined strengths led to all three women eventually ending up in the lift, as Tash slammed down the emergency stop.

"_What _is going on?!" she demanded, "Jamey what is your… sister…?"

"Friend," Sally and Jamey groaned together with precisely the same inflections, "Not sisters. Friends."

"Really? You guys look really similar."

"We do not!!"

Tash was now sidetracked from her original line of interrogation by an opportunity to tease the two others, "You even talk the same way. That is _sooo_ sweet, Jamey."

"We are nothing similar!" Jamey continued to protest. "She has brown hair."

"She has blonde hair," Sally added. "And she's shorter than me."

"Hey! Only by a bit. And she has brown eyes."

Sally paused. "Jay, so do you. That's the problem here."

Tash returned to the original subject, keeping it in mind that she could use this tease at a later date… just as long as Lucas never found out, "Okay, but why am I… _where_ am I being taken?"

"Shopping," Sally answered, as Jamey once more rolled her eyes. "We have to track down a dress for Jay – have you ever noticed how hard it is to find stuff to go with blonde hair and brown eyes?! I remember back when we were at school and there was this Christmas –"

"That's enough, Sal," Jamey cut in.

-------

Lucas entered the empty bullpen. "Where the hell has everyone disappeared to?"

-------

McGee stood in front of the suit rack. Whatever he chose, he knew, was going to be submitted to extreme inspection by Tony.

"Can I help you, Mr. Gemcity?"

"No, that's fine, Clara."

She smiled and left. The shop was a high-class outlet, serving many celebrities. Mr. Gemcity may not have been the most famous or rich, but Clara liked him because he was soft spoken and kind of shy, and you didn't meet many customers like that here.

-------

"Jay, get out here," Sally said sternly.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

Jamey stepped out in a floor length blue dress that Sally had enthusiastically pulled off a rack. She and Tash looked Jamey up and down.

"No."

Jamey nodded grimly. "I thought so." She returned to the cubicle, calling out, "I'm not even going to bother trying to make this bloody red one work. I could just do a Lucas and go in jeans and a t-shirt."

Sally crossed her arms, "Okay, Jay, I am using the age old technique of walking off and leaving you to find something yourself."

Jamey was still pulling on her trousers as Sally began once again dragging Tash off, "Where are you going?! If you're going to the food court, wait up… Tash! Sal! Have you two gone?"

There was no reply. "Bugger you, Sally Martha Robins."

Sally found something her tailor's eye had spotted earlier, she thrust it into Tash's arms, "Wait, what size are you?"

"12, 10 sometimes…"

Sally raised her eyebrows, "You're a _twelve_."

Tash nodded, "Usually."

"There's no way you're that big."

Tash had a dawning look realisation. "Oh, an eight, Yank sizes I'm an eight."

"Thank God." Sally grinned. "I promise you that is utterly perfect for you."

Tash looked doubtful. "I don't know, it's a bit . . . "

"Bit what?"

"I don't know!"

"You're hopeless, at least Jamey is potentially enthusiastic… if anything matched."

"I'm not really a dress person."

Sally shook her head in dismay. "Is this or is this not a massive function, attended by the _Secretary Of The Navy_?!"

"Well . . ."

"Enough arguing."

Tash was shoved with the dress into a changing room.

------

Jamey browsed unenthusiastically through the sale items that Sally had walked straight past. "And there were ten green bottles sitting on the wall…"

A shop assistant who had been heading towards her, diverted their course after hearing the warbled lines. Shopping Rule No. 1: make out that you're a nutter and they don't come near you. Her eyes widened, pulling out a dress, "I need to find Sal."

She began to jog, then slowed to a fast walk, expecting she still appeared insane. When she was the changing area she sped again, flying through the door, "Sally, I think I may just have found something!"

Sally shushed her, "Whatever, Jay, Tash is trying something on… I swear this will be awesome."

Jamey's eyes widened. After all the time they'd worked together, she'd never seen Tash in a dress. "This being something of the kind without separate leg-holes?" she checked.

"Yup," Sally looked very proud.

Tash emerged grudgingly. She wore a deep red dress with straps that crossed at the back and a flowing skirt that fell to just below her knees. She looked very uncertain.

"It's perfect!" exclaimed Sally.

Jamey stuck more to team tradition. "Not half bad, Paul," she said with an approving smile and slight nod.

------

"Timothy!" McGee heard the exclamation from behind him, and turned to see Patrick William Kennard's form bearing down on him. "I didn't know you'd be here… well, of course I didn't… how are you doing? Is this for the big NCIS do that Gibbs hasn't got an invite to?"

"Does he want an invite?"

"Oh, no. He's thrilled not to be going. He's rather smug about it actually, but it means he hasn't got a ticket to give _me_."

"You can have mine," McGee grumbled.

"Tempting, Timothy, very tempting, but I couldn't possibly deprive you of the, well, no, no I couldn't… Now I think about it, the SecNav is at my party next week."

Clara edged back over, "Mister Kennard, can I help you?"

"Well, here's the thing Clara, I'm sure you remember that simply beautiful red silk tie and neckerchief set you foisted upon me about a year ago as a gift for my continued custom . . .? Yes, good. I've grown rather partial to the style, and was wondering if you have any more in stock, in a different colour maybe?"

"Of course," she laughed, "follow me. I'll be back with you in a second Mr. Gemcity."

"I am terribly sorry Clara, what was that you just called my friend?"

"Mr . . . Gemcity?"

Patrick glared accusingly at McGee. "_Thom E. Gemcity, is that?_"

McGee started to look slightly guilty, then smiled. "Nice to meet you Patrick William Kennard."

"This whole time this _whole _time that I've been bullying, begging LJ to bring you along to a party, and you were _you?_"

For the first time since she had begun serving him, Clara saw a look of smug satisfaction pass over 'Mr Gemcity's' face.

-------

Sally took a single look at the slate grey dress Jamey was wearing. "We're done here."

--------

Patrick took a single look at the dark blue suit McGee was wearing. "Well, if you're sure you don't want the glitter . . ."

---------

Lucas took a single look at the suit jacket he'd pulled out of his drawer. "I think this is the only thing I have."

* * *

**Reviews would be nice.....**


	2. Somethingy Whatsimicallit

**Disclaimer: So I get a bit confused, cause I do own some of this, but not all of it... if you recognise it from the show, chances are the producers/scriptwriters do not have psychic links with me. At least I hope not, because if they do, I can't tell and that's slightly scary.**

**A/N: I'm really sorry it's been so long. I don't really have a valid excuse. Thanks as always to my co-writer, YouGottaSingAlong.**

**

* * *

**

Kathy was waiting for the Gudek to get in. About two hours ago an e-mail had arrived in his inbox with a ping that was beginning to eat away at her curiosity. Fabian, of course, seemed unflustered, and was acting like he already knew what it said, which grated even more on her nerves.

"Should I just go read it and then mark it as unread?"

Fabian smiled very slightly and shrugged. Kathy began to tap her desk impatiently. "I mean, what if Lisa's killed him? And we never get to know what's in that e-mail?"

Fabian raised a single eyebrow then, when she looked away, rolled his eyes despairingly. She glanced around, before sneaking over to Tony's desk, jumping at the sound of her ringtone, "Hello."

"Kathy, Tony got in the lift about forty seconds ago."

Kathy hung up with a, "Thanks Director," and quickly changed her course to hang irritatingly over Fabian's shoulder. "What cha up too, Fab?"

Tony walked in, dark circles under his eyes, he hadn't slept properly in weeks, an insomniatic period that was driving Lisa mad.

Nonchalantly, Kathy called, "You have an e-mail. Donnie plugged the computers in and you don't have a password so it just… pinged."

Tony nodded to indicate that he'd heard and sat at his chair. After about thirty seconds, he groaned. It was an invite forwarded to him by Director Tomlin, with a small note added by her.

**Yes, you have to go.**

Still offhand, Kathy glanced over, "What is it, Gudek?"

"Some big party in Washington. NCIS thing, SecNav's gonna be there and all."

Kathy sighed. " Do we ha – "

"Yes."

"Are the others going to be there?"

"What others?"

"McGee, Gibbs, Lucas, Jay, Tash… the Others."

"How should I know?"

Fabian intervened. "Gibbs isn't going."

Kathy rounded on him, it was hard to believe a woman of under five feet could look threatening to a six foot block of muscle but she did, "You _knew_! And you didn't tell us?"

Fabian backed off, hands raised in surrender.

-----

"I remember roaming these halls, a young, innocent, eager agent," Tony continued on his spiel as the elevator progressed upward. "And slowly, I guess I grew into my authority, became a figure that younger agents could look up to and bathe in the glory of..."

"So what went wrong?" Kathy asked, a devilish glint in her eye.

He clipped his hand around the back of her head. "Just cause we're not _working _doesn't mean I'm not your boss."

"Sorry, Gudek." A few seconds passed before her resolve broke. "I was just trying to grow into my authority."

Fabian clenched his jaw to keep from laughing, earning himself a considerably harder headslap.

"I saw that, Fab."

The doors slid open, revealing the Washington D.C. Major Case Team in the central bullpen. They didn't exactly look 'hard at work', with Tash perched on the edge of Lucas' desk, peering around at his computer monitor as they laughed together at something, and Jamey offering McGee an earphone of what she was listening to, which he reluctantly accepted after much cajoling. McGee was the first to notice them, and acknowledged it with a small nod and smile, waiting for his team to catch on. They didn't have to however, as Abby and Terry arrived via the stairwell, Abby reeling off a list of chemicals to a diligent and slightly scared looking Terry.

"Abs," Tony greeted, and she turned, her jaw slowly dropping.

"Tony!!" she squealed, running forward to throw her arms around him. "Hey! I didn't know you were arriving today, how didn't I know you were arriving today?"

The team collectively looked up to see Fabian greeting Abby with a loose hug and a peck on the cheek, and Kathy and her embracing.

Lucas sauntered over, his thumbs hooked into his pockets.

"Hi Lil'Ozzo."

"Pleasure, Lukey-boy."

Fabian and he gave each other a critical stare, before slowly shaking hands.

"Sawicki."

"Logan."

Ten minutes later, they had all gone through the rituals, and the bullpen had become quite crowded with people 'working' in it.

Tash, Jamey and Kathy were huddled around one desk, speaking in hushed tones, with the occasional burst of laughter.

"So what's her name?" Jamey asked.

Kathy glanced furtively at Fabian. "Adrianna. She's his youngest sister. And his favourite one."

"How many does he have?" Tash asked.

"Five. And five brothers."

Tash and Jamey's eyes widened in shock as they turned to stare at him, standing stoic as ever beside Terry and Lucas.

"Wow." Jamey shrugged. "You should go for it. Worth a try, surely."

"Yeah. Well that seems sensible, right? But I don't know if I should..... ask Fab first or something. And you know he might, kill me, or, something..."

Tash grimaced. "Tough one."

"Real helpful, Natasha, real helpful."

-----

"Come on, dad, pleeaasee?"

Leon Vance forced a smile as he looked up from his paperwork once again. "Sophie, it's not going to be fun for a ten year old girl, wouldn't you rather... go to Sarah's house for a sleepover?" He was desperate, and resorted to bribery.

She folded her arms and glared stubbornly up at him. "You never want me to go to sleepovers, but now that I'm asking _not _to...."

Vance sighed. "Darling, this is a very important event. The –"

"SecNav's going to be there, along with a whole bunch of other very important people who you need to like you because somethingy whatsimicallit, your job, blahdy blah blah... how's that going to change if I'm there?"

"Well I'll need to talk to them, so I can't keep an eye on you."

"Da-ad," she whined. "I'm not three! I'll be fine, and if I need anything I can ask McGee, he'll be bored anyway."

He let out a bark of laughter. "If I agree..." Sophie grinned, "then I want your bedroom tidy by the night."

Her smile disappeared, and she looked mutinous for a second before scrunching up her face. "Fine."

"Fine," Leon replied, somewhat childishly.

She walked toward the door of his office, before turning and saying sweetly, "I might need something new to wear."

"Talk to your mother!"

Jumping, she quickly muttered, "Okay," and rushed out the door before he could change his mind.

* * *

**So not a lot happens, but we are getting to the main plot really soon, promise.**


	3. Not A Chance

**Disclaimer: Maybe I'll become one of those people who just posts the disclaimer on their profile and leaves it there....... nah, I enjoy it when I think up a good one too much. This doesn't fall into that category. This is a crap one.**

**A/N: For YouGottaSingAlong, hope you had a good day.**

* * *

Tash and Lucas shared a look. She sat in the driver's seat, having picked him up. The look was one of mutual dread.

"We could run away," Lucas suggested, eyes lighting up hopefully.

"And have McGee track us down?" Tash replied, and watched the light leave his face. "On three."

"One," he said.

"Two."

They stopped. "We really have to?" Lucas asked.

Tash glared at him. "Don't test my self control. Three." They opened the doors, and stepped out onto the street.

Jamey and McGee met them there. "Way to make an effort, Logan," the latter commented dryly.

Lucas straightened his jacket in mock offence. "Well at least I didn't go shopping _just _for this stupid event," he said, and the other three looked down in embarrassment.

-----

Tony and Fabian were standing together, both wearing traditional black tuxedos. Tony's bow tie sat slightly askew. "How do you do that?" he asked, staring enviously at Fabian's, which was of course perfect. Fabian sighed, reaching forward and pulling Tony's loose, before deftly tying it again.

"You guys couldn't look much more gay right now," quipped Kathy, popping up beside them.

Tony jolted slightly, and Fabian's shoulders shook a little in otherwise imperceptible laughter.

"Nice one, Kathy," Jamey called over as they approached.

Kathy was clad in a smart, but comfortable looking suit. "That seems sensible," Tash muttered.

Jamey laughed. "Sally never would have let you get away with it. She's a tyrant."

McGee watched the interaction in silence. He and Tony grimaced at each other. "Time to go in," they announced in unison. The statement was met with groans. Neither agent could find it within them to chastise their teams for voicing what they were feeling. They walked into a large hall. There was a space cleared in the middle, for dancing, and catering tables sat out around the edges. A stage at the far end hosted a band that had already began to play.

"Does this remind you of a school dance?" Kathy asked.

"Never went to one," Lucas said.

"Me neither," added Tash.

"I wanted to go to my senior prom," Jamey said, tone apologetic. "But Fraser took me sailing and I broke my arm the day before."

Kathy rolled her eyes. "Hopeless, much? Fab, what about you?"

Everyone waited for a blank or scathing look. "Very like a school dance," was what they got, before he offered his arm to Kathy. Surprised, she took it, and they stepped onto the dance floor.

"Is Fabian Sawicki leading off the dancing?" McGee questioned, unable to believe his eyes.

Tony blinked, staring. "He likes to shock people," was the eventual reply.

Jamey, Tash and Lucas looked at each other.

"No way" said Lucas.

"Not a chance," Tash commented at the same time.

"I'm going to get a drink," decided Jamey.

Slowly, more pairs began to take to the floor, and the gathering relaxed. Kathy and Fabian manoeuvred their way out, and joined Jamey in a glass of the champagne that was being carried around by waiters. "You dance well," she complimented them, and Kathy smiled. Fabian would have smiled, but he was Fabian, so he nodded.

Sophie Vance ran around, dodging between people, under the eye line of most, and largely unnoticed. The first McGee knew of it was a tugging on his trouser. "Tim, Tim, Tim, Tim, Tim, Tim, Tim, Tim, Tim, Tim!"

"Hi So, didn't see you there."

She rolled her eyes. "No one does. Daddy said….. daddy said… oh, right, yeah. Daddy said to say to you 'is there any chance you brought something stronger than champagne, he has a feeling he might need it.' He said you'd get it. Like he thinks I don't understand what he means. I'm ten, honestly."

Tony laughed. "Grown-ups, right? My girl's about your age, she's the same, always 'daddy, do you think I'm a baby?'."

Sophie stared critically at this new person. "I don't know you," she stated, "but I think you're kinda funny."

He bowed.

Lucas hesitantly peeled apart two layers of a sandwich, then promptly through it in the bin beside him. "Every one. Every single one has mayo or tomato. It's incredible. Incredible."

"This is top class catering," Tash joked, "no one's allowed to actually _like _it. I ate before I got here."

"Yeah, yeah. Smart-arse. I wasn't hungry then. Look, there's a kebab place across the street… cover for me? Please?"

Tash took pity on him. "You have fifteen minutes, Logan. Run."

He dashed out of the door.

Leon was stuck in a conversation with the SecNav and Violet Tomlin, during which he was being grilled about NCIS efficiency. "I'm telling you, laying off employees right now is just not an option. We barely have enough agents to go around, and don't even get me started on forensics. Right now we have two people in our lab doing the work of ten."

SecNav frowned. "I was under the impression you used to have one, in my predecessor's time."

"Abby has a family now, and she deserves to spend time with them. She's worth her weight in gold."

Tomlin nodded. "I've had the pleasure of briefly meeting Miss Sciuto, and I wish our forensics were done with half her skill."

-----

Sighing with pleasure, Lucas stuck his teeth into his kebab. There was no spare seats in the tiny indoor area of the shop, so he stood leaning on the wall, looking across at the building of the Naval Ball/Function/Thing. The Naval Thing. _Sounds like a bad movie, _he thought to himself, then promptly slapped his own head. _That's a Lil' Ozzo thought, Logan. _He inhaled, enjoying the fresh air, the lack of music, the absence of dancing, the non-existence of goddamn mayonnaise. He checked his watch as he finished the kebab, and saw that he still had three minutes of Tash's deadline. No point in returning too early, after all. He saw a movement in the shadows at the side of the building, and the agent in him reacted, starting to walk toward the road. A flow of traffic stopped him from doing anything, and he could only watch. In the darkness he could make out the shape of at least seven men, but there were probably more that he couldn't see. There was the unmistakable silhouette of a machine gun on the back of each one. Individually, they disappeared through what must have been a window, or back door of some form. Everything happened very quickly, and by the time Lucas could batter his way across the road, horns beeping after him, they were gone. A few seconds later, automatic fire echoed out, and the street collapsed into chaos. _Shit, _thought Lucas Logan. _Oh shit._

* * *

**Now we get to the good stuff. Or more, I should say, the bad stuff. But you know, the 'good' stuff. You know, right?**


	4. Just A Little Faster

**Disclaimer: I like starfish. (see Mentalist oneshot Beautiful Trouble to get this).**

**A/N: Ohmygod I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry.**

* * *

The burst of gunfire may have caused the street outside to explode, but inside it made a deathly silence fall. The men, masked with balaclavas, spread out across the room. Paths in the crowd formed to allow them through. They spread into the corners of the room and lined the walls, guns aimed and ready. One stayed in the centre, sometimes directing the others to their positions.

"My men will come around the room searching for weapons, comply with them fully," he said in perfect if heavily accented English.

"Shit," murmured various NCIS agents lowly, only training preventing hands from flying protectively to shoulder, hip and leg holsters where the rules had been bent as a larger number than ever were accepted into the 'security detail'. It was Personnel taking pity on the poor agents stranded in a social world completely outside of what they were used to.

"I'm going to _kill_ Lucas Logan," said Tash.

"Where is he?" Jamey asked, glancing around the groups of people.

"Out," Tash replied shortly. "Getting a kebab."

"Oh thank god."

"No, not thank god, maybe it would be thank god if he were safe at home or something, but now he's just freaking out outside, if he does something stupid…" she ranted lowly.

"Oh, there you are," Kathy said, having pushed subtly through. "You guys armed?"

They gave grim nods.

"Yeah, me too, I was thinking, follow me. Quietly."

Trying not to be noticed, the three women made their way over to one of the buffet tables. Kathy took her gun from her hip and slid it under the table, where the white cloth hid it. Jamey and Tash looked at her in awe, and quickly followed suit.

"Genius," breathed Tash. "What about Fabian, Tony and McGee?"

"Told them already," said Kathy with a quick grin.

Eventually the terrorists shuffled them into the middle of the room, most likely to keep away from plates and glasses that could be easily made into weapons, but the reassurance that they could reclaim the guns at some point took a weight off all of their minds.

Tash stepped forward on their beckoning to be frisked. Jamey nearly snorted with laughter when it was revealed she was wearing black running shorts under her dress, and Tash shot a gentle smile over her shoulder. The penknife strapped to her thigh was found easily, but the Swiss card tucked into her bra comforted her as she imagined the damage she could do with it given half the chance.

In half an hour they were done searching, and the silent tension was thick in the air. In one crowd, surrounded by gunmen, there were a few whispered conversations, but most couldn't think what to say. The calculating eyes of many NCIS Agents surveyed the room and their captors, looking for the fatal flaw, the one weakness that would offer them their escape. Years of survival in their jobs had given them the cautious optimism that it would be their, trials and tribulations that they had made it through awarding them the thought that they could make it through this one. It wasn't any different with the Marines and Naval Officers. Friends were softly comforting the few civilians attending.

Tony could see some people were crying, and he thought of his family and how horrible it would be if the sobbing woman next to him were Lisa. Tentatively, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he said, ignoring McGee turning to look at him with a half surprised, half impressed expression. "We're going to get out of here, okay? But you need to hold it together. Do you have a family?"

Taking a deep, unsteady breath, she nodded.

"Well they need you to get through this for them, yeah?" he improvised wildly, trying to ease her, not sure how. "And I need you to just do me a favour and always try to stay in the middle of other people. For your family. Trust me."

She nodded again, whispered her thanks, and following his advice, moved further into the group, while Tony, ignoring his advice, moved further out.

The men were talking in what sounded like Arabic, and eventually seemed to resolve whatever they were talking about. The leader started redirecting them to different positions, until it was him and two men left. The three terrorists cut easily through the crowd, coming to a stop in front of Director Vance, Director Tomlin and Secretary Conway. One addressed Conway.

"Our demand is very simple. You and your government publicly announce that you are discontinuing talks with the Royal Saudi Navy."

Vance lightly snorted. "That's not going to happen, and you know it."

The man spared him only a brief glance. "I wasn't talking to you."

"No one else is going to say any different. You're delusional. "

Conway softly laid a hand on Vance's shoulder to stop him, too late. The man glanced to the side, almost imperceptibly, and nodded very slightly at one of his companions. McGee, from the sidelines, saw, and followed his gaze to a young girl slowly making her way through the crowd, terrified, trying to reach her father. Sophie. He began to move. Jamey noticed him pushing through, and, confused, looked closely around. She figured it out as the terrorist began to raise his gun. _Move, Jamey. Move. Now._ Her breathing became erratic as she stared on, unable to control her muscles for just a second, but it was long enough. The man quickly took his aim, McGee sprinted the last few steps to his goddaughter, shoving her down to the ground. The terrorist's finger had begun to pull in the trigger, and automatically completed the movement. The world seemed to stop, or slow down, as the bullet made its way through the air. Jamey regained movement, too late. McGee was the only one who had taken his action in time to reach his aim, but even then, he should have been just a little faster.

* * *

**Sorry?**


	5. Trembling With Anger

**Disclaimer: I think you're beginning to get it by now. Not mine - NCIS, Gibbs, McGee, Tony, Ziva. Mine - uhhhhhh, all those OC people. Lots of them.**

**A/N: Muchious gracias to YouGottaSingAlong, lots of this is the fragments we wrote when we first were talking about TO, henceforth, lots of this is hers.**

* * *

"You're not doing _enough_," Lucas stormed, incensed at the slow movement of the police's operations. "We have _agents _in there."

"And civilians. And the Secretary of the Navy." pointed out a police superintendent. "We're doing the best we can, Agent Logan."

"Special Agent Logan," he corrected. Lucas wasn't usually so petty, but he was stressed and they were purposefully trying to shove him out of their operations.

He moved on to find Andy, an old friend in the police who was addressing a group of officers on potential attack plans.

"Going to let me in on the secret?" he asked, poking his head into the circle.

"There are a few potential plans, we're drawing up alternatives until we see what the government say about their demands – obviously the president would prefer we reached a solution before he has to decide, of course,"

This didn't satisfy Lucas.

"Can't you do that any quicker?"

He recognized the look on his friend's face, and knew what was coming.

"Skywalker, get out of here. Go for a run or something," Andy ordered, clapping his friend's shoulder. "Clear your head." Lucas declined for almost five minutes before Andy shoved his two way radio into Lucas' hands. "Anything, I should know, you will know. And I'm Inspector, most of these guys are reporting to me," He waved his fingers vaguely in general circles. "And me is you while you're out. Now _go._"

Lucas nodded, silently moving away. He pulled off the jacket and tie he had been forced to wear to the function and thanked the heavens he had chosen to put black trail shoes on before jogging out into the cold February air.

He had been running little over ten minutes when he realised that the area was surprisingly familiar to him. He found himself at the door of one of the houses, his hand raising to knock. A sharp five chaps, and Felicity Alice Gibbs opened the door groggily. "Lucas! What are you doing here?" She stopped, recognising the look on his face, turning to call Gibbs from the basement, she opened a drawer and removed one of the guns Gibbs had strategically placed around the house. As the older man, now in his seventies, but still moving well, appeared, his wife kissed his cheek, and pressed the gun into his hand, muttering, "Be careful." Then slammed the door on him.

Gibbs turned to Lucas, "Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?"

Inside, the terrorists were quieting the crowd, who had risen into uproar after the shooting. Jamey, having moved just before McGee was killed, had been splattered with blood and was crouching now, whimpering, in shock by his side. Vance had taken Sophie and found his thirteen-year-old son in the crowd, and was holding them to himself, looking with a mix of fear and loathing at McGee's killer. Tony, Fabian, Kathy and Tash from there various, further removed, positions, could only stare on in horror, afraid to move too far but longing to join Jamey with McGee.

The terrorist seemed to have decided McGee's death was enough, as he cast his original target – Sophie – a mere glance, then turned his back.

"We will send someone out to tell them about _him,_" the terrorist shot a cursory look at McGee's body, and then pointed at Jamey. "You knew him?"

She looked up, trembling with anger, jaw clenched. "Yes," she said, trying to put as much defiance into her tone as possible. "Yes, I knew him."

"You can go out, and tell them he is dead, and that many many more will die if they do not do as we instruct. The president will publicly announce he is ending talks with the Royal Saudi Navy."

Jamey wanted to do a number of things, such as spit on him, or attack him, or even just, as Vance had done, say _'like fuck he will'_, but she knew better. She ran a hand through McGee's hair and looked at him a last time, then stood.

"If you insist."

The man snorted, and indicated to another. "Lead her as far as you can go without being shot."

Lucas and Gibbs jogged together back, slower, Gibbs was not as young as he'd once been, and Lucas filled him in on the way.  
There was a radio call from Andy.

"Logan?"

"Loud and clear, Andy, what happened?"

"The FBI are going to try to storm the building soon."

Lucas sped up, and Gibbs chose not to comment, just pushed his body harder to keep stride.

When they arrived, Andy greeted Lucas, and shot a look at Gibbs.

"Honestly, Skywalker, I send you away to stop you interfering and you come back with someone to help you interfere."

Lucas was about to respond when Jamey charged past Andy, barrelling into Lucas in tears. She took one look at him and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shirt. Lucas, holding her awkwardly, took in her appearance – she had blood sprayed all over her. He made what he thought of as comforting noises in her ear. Then carefully, disentangled her slightly from himself. "Jamey, are you… y'know…. hurt?"

He did not receive an answer, just a steadily growing salty-wet patch on his dark blue shirt. He felt her head shake.

"McGee," she choked.

"McGee? Jamey – what about McGee, what happened to him?"

"He's . . . he's dead."

The police were all tense, the FBI attack was from the other side of the building and they'd been told in no uncertain terms that there was no way for them to help – leading to much muttering about federal agency snobs, through which Lucas and Gibbs kept tactfully quiet.

There were gunshots from inside the building, and everyone jolted. Some people began to rush to battle stations, or seemed like they were, while others made it perfectly obvious they had no idea what they could do.

Eventually, the police radio crackled, indicating the FBI tuning in. Lucas grabbed the com from Andy, "This is NCIS. What's going on at your end?"

A voice that initially Lucas could have sworn to be Israeli replied, "We're doing everything we can. But we lost three officers when we attempted to storm the building."

"Okay. Any news from the inside?"

"None. You?"

"One of our agents is dead. Tim McG..." Lucas faltered, choking. "McGee, Special Agent McGee. NCIS out."

Isaac Daniels turned to his wife and related what he had just been told; he saw her throat jolt before she quietly thanked him and turned away and briskly gave orders to her team.

* * *

**I loooooooveeeeee Ziva and Isaac.**


	6. A Dangerous Job

**Disclaimer: Hahahahahaha.**

**A/N: Thanks again to YouGottaSingAlong, a lot, if not in fact most, of this chapter was hers. So I'm just saying, don't kill me. :P Okay, t'is my fault too.**

**A/N2: Good luck to Tiva4evaxxx with her Bio exam today - or more to the point, hope it went well, since I think you probably won't have time to read this in the morning. **

**A/N3: The way this is panning out, it will be shorter than planned, but I think it's better than having chapters that drag on.**

**A/N4: Oh, and once again, sorry.**

**

* * *

**

"Tell the present he needs to come to a bloody decision and he needs to come to it fast!" Lucas yelled in Andy's general direction.

Andy, speaking on a cell phone, paraphrased, "I'm afraid we've run out of options, we can't run this blind. We need to know what the president's saying to these guys."

He nodded diplomatically and made 'mm' noises at the politician on the other side of the phone call.

"Yes, well I need to know as quick as you can tell me, sir, I'm sorry, that's just how it is."

"Who stuck you on politics duty?" Lucas asked when he hung up.

Shrugging, Andy replied, "Drew the short straw I guess."

Lucas made a face. "Give me a yell if anything happens."

Quickly he slipped over to where Gibbs and Jamey were – a medic checking Jay over and treating her for shock, while Gibbs, being Gibbs, was tactfully, or as tactfully as he was capable of, grilling her for details.

To her credit, after breaking down to Lucas, she succinctly and accurately reported everything happening inside with only the slightest tremble in her voice. Gibbs smiled with what looked like pride when she talked about how they'd hid their guns, and some had concealed knives.

"The rules were yours, weren't they?" she asked.

"Sure were."

"One day someone'll have them engraved into a plaque at NCIS, you wait."

"And completely ruin the point of people learning them?"

When Lucas joined them he rested a reassuring hand on Jamey's shoulder, it was all he could think to do. Smiling weakly, she lifted her hand and held his, squeezing it gently, but saying nothing. They were running off the adrenalin, and terrified for colleagues and friends, and mourning McGee, and there was simply nothing left to say that couldn't wait until after everything was done.

On the other side of the building, Isaac Daniels and Ziva David were talking to the FBI director over a video conference, but the story wasn't much different. Until the president had taken an official stance on the terrorist's demands, they could only plan for eventualities. Once the call was over, Isaac gently wrapped his arms around her wife. She responded only a little, but didn't protest.

"Can you do this?" he whispered in her ear, knowing the answer, but having to ask.

"Yes," she predictably said. "Thank you, but yes I can. I just need the president to choose, quickly. It would never take this long in Israel."

"I know," he soothed. "But is that a good thing?"

She didn't reply, but held him tighter.

"We never even got to tell him we were back," she whispered.

Ten minutes later, the President of the United States announced his decision. By loudspeaker, it was passed on. The United States of America does not negotiate with terrorists.

On hearing, the leader snarled through his balaclava.

"Will you send out another hostage with a response?" asked Secretary Conway, trying and failing to keep his voice from cracking with fear.

Unseen, the man's face twisted into a smirk. He scanned the crowds, stopping as he came to Fabian. He looked at one of the other men, and gestured toward his chosen prey. You choose someone unthreatening, like the girl, to release. You choose someone like this man for vengeance. For execution. The executioner he had chosen flanked by two other men for crowd control approached Fabian, and, somewhat gingerly, though he tried to hide it, grabbed his arm. Fabian followed compliantly into a small clearing that had formed. The terrorist, trying not to look nervous and remember that he was the one with the gun, pointed downwards.

"Kneel."

Fabian's own gun pressed against his leg, and was easily found as two men searched him. He still had two knives, but the plan forming in his mind didn't involve either. He stared down the man for a while, taking small satisfaction when the man looked away. Terrorists were far easier to break than people presumed. It just meant being stoic. Still, though, he kneeled. The man pressed the barrel of his gun against Fabian's head. Fabian kicked back his leg, tripping up his supposed killer. He grabbed the man's gun from him, firing three fast shots into his body. He stood up, and had the chance to mockingly dust himself off before the other two men grabbed him, by one arm each. The gun was wrenched from his arms. He didn't' even fight. Tony pushed forward, trying to reach men. The leader of the group, who had been watching impassively, shoved him back, before grabbing his gun. Tony had known the risks of trying to help Fabian, or so he thought, but his heart stopped as the leader aimed at Kathy. He held the gun tauntingly up to her head, then swept it downward and fired into her shin. She fell to the ground. Fabian instinctively lunged forward against his captors.

"I'm fine," Kathy gasped, motioning for them not to try and help, "Gudek, Fab, I'm fine."

Tony turned to Fabian again, readying himself to attack the leader. Fabian held up his hands, motioning to Tony to stay back, "Dziękuję, Anthony. No! Nawet nie próbuj." He spoke softly as Tony started forward. "It's a dangerous job. Muszę już iść. Don't worry, nie przejmuj się." Fabian fell silent and turned to his execution squad. He shook off his arms, cricked his neck... and smiled. As the automatic weapon fire ripped his body to shreds, he grinned. Fabian Sawicki's last move. Twenty years later, an old man sitting with his granddaughter, a lover of gruesome stories, would recount this, and the little girl would clap her hands together in delight, not noticing the shadow that passed across her dziadzio's face as he remembered the eighth and last time he saw Fabian Sawicki's full smile.

Back in the present, Kathy and Violet looked down at their colleague, unable to believe that the rock that had always been there, impervious to harm, was the mangled form on the ground. Yet strangely, while so many people shrunk, semmed to become insignificant in death, Fabian still retained his dignity. Death couldn't steal it. One of the terrorists turned back to the groups of hostages. "All remaining weapons, on the ground. I have more men here than you have sandwiches, we will not hesitate to kill another. Maybe one of Director Vance's children that he so wisely brought today."

Vance held his two children close, shielding their eyes from the bleeding carcasses of McGee and Fabian, "Lay one finger on them and no matter how many men shoot at us, at least one of you will be dead on the ground."

Pale faced, Kathy screwed up her eyes as she watched a trickle of her own blood seep into Fabian's flood. Director Tomlin turned in a circle, "I'm unarmed. Let me help my agent. She's losing blood. I need to stop the flow before she passes out."

One of the terrorists a nod from his superior threw her a white sheet. Tomlin nodded thanks automatically, before remembering that manners don't apply to murderers. She knelt down beside Kathy and carefully bound the splintered limb, she wasn't sure her First Aid course had covered shattered femur from gunfire. She must get trained in that if she ever returned to Poland.

* * *

***sobs* That's been written for about 9 months. I miss him. :'(**


	7. Nearly Enough

**Disclaimer: Ahahaha. Aha. Ha. Haha. Ha.**

**A/N: I begin to wonder why I put this in when I have really nothing to say...**

**

* * *

**

One terrorist dragged out the body halfway into the lobby, another behind him standing guard with a machine gun.

Sick to the stomach and shaking with terror, a policeman rushed forward and pulled out the dead agent the rest of the way. The terrorists retreated back into the main room, leaving all the agents and cops staring in dismay at the giant of Fabian Sawicki, brought to them dead and cold by these bastards. Jamey, still in her blood splattered clothes, rushed to his side and held his lifeless hand. People, everyone, really, had told her to go home and change, clean up, or when she refused, offered to send someone to find some fresh clothes, at least. She'd said they needed everyone they could get, and she wasn't joking. She looked up at Lucas and Gibbs, standing together in silent respect for the fallen man. The three NCIS agents turned to look at Andy.

"We're hurrying, we're hurrying, we're hurrying… faster. Okay."

Lucas felt a rush of affection for his old colleague. Andy was a good man, a good police officer, and if, like at the moment, there was something big that NCIS couldn't handle, there was no one he'd rather be assigned to it. But really, things needed to move faster. It was Gibbs who first said it.

"We're going to have to go in blind."

Surrounded by a group of team leaders from the various agencies and the police, no one responded for a few seconds, before there was mutual nodding and order yelling. Nobody wanted to send their people into that situation, but sometimes, Gibbs knew too well, you had to. And goddamnit, it was his people inside. After all these years, still, he thought of them that way.

As the two sides of the building coordinated the attack, Lucas found a police van and geared up in a bulletproof vest and a helmet, the best he could do. He grabbed stuff for Gibbs and Jamey too – not really sure that either should be going in, Jamey traumatised, Gibbs… old – here he winced to himself, glad that he was fairly sure his ex-boss couldn't read minds – but he knew the hell he'd get if he voiced such concerns, and how he'd feel in their situation. So he got them the gear, and they gratefully put it on.

When Lucas turned to walk away, Jamey leapt after him and gently placed a hand on his arm.

"Thank you," she said. "For not saying I shouldn't be there. I know I shouldn't, but I need to be. Maybe, when you're talking with Andy, put me in one of the further back teams. Where I'll be less of a…" she paused, not wanting to finish, but forcing herself to, "liability."

He smiled faintly and put his hand on hers. "Yeah, will do."

He wanted to say how impressed he was, that she could realise that herself, act on it. Say it to him. But such sentiments were hard to express, especially when you worked in a team, day in, day out, used to banter and light-heartedness. He hoped she understood how proud, yes, proud, of her he was. Maybe it was patronising – in fact no, it wasn't. Lucas _had _seen her grow, from when he'd made her turn green with teasing her on the day of her arrival at NCIS, and he'd like to think he had contributed at least a little toward that. He had every right to be proud.

Jamey, for her part, wasn't feeling like there was much to be proud of. She wasn't strong enough to be up front, or to do the right thing and pull out of the operation altogether. She was glad Lucas hadn't said anything about it, just accepted it. She didn't think she could have coped with him commenting. But Lucas was good that way, for more tactful than you'd think at first meeting. She smiled at the Senior Team Agent's back, before her expression darkened. Soon, soon this would all be over.

…

Lisa DiNozzo turned to the sleeping children. Jenny, nine, and Paul, five, were out like lights, and she hoped it would stay that way. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching the news with rapt attention. Her first thought, of course, had been to rush there herself and harass the police to tell her what was happening. But then there was her children, in a hotel room, in the city of Washington D.C., where they'd never been and there was no one she trusted enough to look after them. Other than her husband and his team, and the Washington team, but they'd gone and gotten themselves stuck in a terrorist controlled building. She had gasped at McGee's death, and she choked with sobs when she heard of Fabian's – a man who was one of her best, most trusted friends.

"I am going to kill you, Ton-ee," she told the television. "If you get out of there alive, I am going to kill you myself."

And then, to stop herself rushing out the door, she looked round at her children again.

…

"Ready to move when you give the go-ahead," Ziva David said, nodding at Isaac and her team.

Standing next to Andy on the other end, Lucas shook his head. He could have sworn the voice was Israeli accented. But the brain did strange things while under pressure.

"All units, go go go," Andy said, not needing to yell, as the leader of every team was tuned in to the same channel.

The attack, despite the tension crackling in the air, started in silence. They wanted to get as close to the ballroom as possible before people knew they were there. When they were at one of the outer walls, an FBI agent found an air vent and fed through a camera.

With a gloved hand, he signed to all the others. The hostages were in a large group in the middle of the room. Some of the terrorists were round the edges, others guarding the central group. The leader was in the centre, walking around. Different teams stuck plastic explosives to the walls in designated parts around the room, all carefully planned.

The same agent put up his hand, counting down fingers.

Five.  
Four.  
Three.  
Two.  
One.

And then the silence ended.

As soon as the walls exploded, Tash threw herself out across the room to where she, Jamey and Kathy had hidden their guns. She slid two over toward Kathy and Tomlin, who picked them up and fired at the terrorists from their positions on the ground. Tony seemed to have had the same idea, having given McGee and Fabian's guns to random NCIS agents and grabbing his own.

The leader of the terrorists stood in the middle of it all, like the god of all this carnage, spraying bullets from his machine gun into the crowd, who were running and screaming, trying to fight their way past agents.

Lucas and Gibbs, side by side, saw him together, and knew it was him. It was in everything about him. This was the leader. This was the man who'd killed them. Tash and Tony were better informed, they'd seen it with their own two eyes. All four took aim, quickly, as they'd been trained, and fired, with precision, as they'd been taught.

And as the four bullets slammed in to him, the machine gun fire came to halt, and his body fell to the ground, not one of them felt it was nearly enough.

* * *

**Ah, I quite like this chap. Hope y'all agree. **


	8. Save Us All

**Disclai... *yawn*.**

**A/N: Little shorter than normal, but just some stuff that needed to be dealt with. There are a few chapters more to go, focusing on what happens after and how everyone copes with it, but no more big drama. **

**

* * *

**

Gibbs, Lucas, Tash, Jamey, Tony and Kathy sat in the bullpen. Most of NCIS were back in the office, either giving reports or working, tracking down the last few members of the terrorist cell. But they just sat. Tony had called Lisa, but he couldn't go back to her yet, he had to give a report to Director Tomlin, at least briefly, and she was currently busy. None of them knew what to say to each other but in a way they wanted to be together, to be there for each other, as though that would make it easier.

And then Tony saw them. Ziva and Isaac stood just outside the elevator. He didn't understand how they could have heard, or gotten there… and then he saw that they were wearing FBI jackets. Slowly, they came over.

"What the?" Tony managed to choke out.

Ziva sighed, and pulled over a chair from an unoccupied desk.

"Isaac and I requested a liason the United States… NCIS didn't need anyone but there were places at the FBI, it…" she faltered, and fell silent.

"It was going to be a surprise," Isaac continued, his voice soft and low. "But this was our first night here. If we'd known…" he stopped talking too.

"McGee," breathed Ziva. She had known Fabian only briefly, and was sorry for his loss, but it was McGee that cut the deepest.

She hugged Tony, leaving a damp patch on the shoulder of his jacket. He shushed her, trying to ignore his own tears. He had lost his first and second probies in one night, and glanced now to Kathy. She met his eye, and smiled weakly.

"You don't get rid of me that easily," Kathy said quietly. A couple of them heard, and sent questioning glances, but Tony managed a smile.

"So you're the boss now, Lucas," Isaac said to the agent.

Tash turned around, appalled, though only in a half-heartedly mocking way.

"God save us all," she joked.

"Especially me," Lucas said dryly.

Director Tomlin, who'd taken over an interrogation room, beckoned to Tony and Kathy.

"I'll need you both for a moment, then you can go."

Tony squeezed his only agent's shoulder in support, and then handed her the crutches she'd been given, and they walked together over to their director.

…

Vance was up with SecNav in his office, and Lucas was soon called to join them. Conway was standing above Vance's desk, and Vance sat behind it, seeming as defeated as Lucas had ever seen him.

"Agent Logan," he greeted.

"Director Vance. Secretary Conway."

"Firstly, though it seems obvious, this is us formally offering you Tim's job, if you want it."

"Yes sir, I do," he replied, with no hesitation.

"I'm glad to hear that Logan. I would like ensuring your employment to be my last act as Director."

There was a silence for about five seconds as Lucas waited to check if he'd heard wrong.

"Are you quitting?"

"Retiring."

Lucas couldn't help hearing he'd heard that one somewhere before, but he understood why. It had been a horrible experience for them all, Vance had lost his head field agent, and a good friend, as well as coming closer to losing his daughter than could be bearable.

"Who'll be director?"

"The deputy director will be taking over," Conway answered, cutting into the conversation.

"No wonder you want to secure my employment," Lucas mumbled, and Vance chuckled. His problems with the deputy were well known NCIS scuttlebutt. "Well, Director," he continued, and swallowed. "Where do I sign?"

…

A few days later, Tony, his family, Tomlin and Kathy were flying home. Everyone was still mourning, in a quiet way, but they came to see them off from the airport, made all the necessary promises to visit each other and keep in touch. Paul was unusually subdued for a five year-old, he didn't know what was going on, but he could obviously tell something was wrong. As far as Jenny was concerned, she'd lost one of her best friends in the whole world in Fabian, and one of her favourite authors in McGee. She'd recently moved on to the Deep Six Series, but admitted to occasionally still reading his kid's books. She'd cried a lot since she heard, and now soberly said goodbye to all the adults, in her serious, grown up way.

Jamey had barely spoken, still racked with guilt for the moment she'd been frozen when she could have saved McGee, Lucas was sick to the stomach with the knowledge that after a few precious days of leave, he'd have to be the new team leader, Tash was grieving for McGee and worried for Lucas. Tony was consoling his wife and daughter while trying not to fall to pieces, Kathy was wondering how she'd ever accept someone who wasn't Fabian into the team, and how quickly her leg would recover. Ziva and Isaac were wishing they'd had the opportunity to see McGee and Fabian again, that they hadn't kept it as a surprise.

Gibbs was watching his prodigies, and their prodigies, and hoping they'd all make it okay. He remembered how proud he'd been of McGee and his handling of the Washington team, and wished the agent had had the chance to retire.

As some of them boarded a plane and the others left the airport, all were thinking of how far they still had to go.

* * *

**I feel the end of this fic drawing near... next chap shouldn't take long, I have a bunch of it written already. **


	9. That's More Like It

**Disclaimer: I am making no profit from this story or zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...**

**A/N: This chapter is about the Washington lot dealing with what's happened, and most of it was written quite a while ago. Thanks to YouGottaSingAlong for the help.**

**

* * *

**

Sighing, Lucas opened the last drawer of McGee's desk, which he was grudgingly moving to. It had been the boss' desk since Gibbs, or even before, and not to move there would just confuse things. The drawer was all but empty, holding a few photographs. The first was of McGee and Sara, both far younger, with their arms around each other, and the next four were team photos. The first – Gibbs, Tony, McGee and Lucas – and the second – McGee, Lucas, Tash and Jamey – he already had copies of, but looked fondly at them once more. The next was of Gibbs, Tony, Ziva and McGee, and although she might already have it, he decided to give it to Ziva when he went to hers the next night, she'd invited everyone to dinner. The last showed Gibbs, Tony, McGee and, he presumed, Kate, the woman he'd never seen but had heard the name of. And he was sure he recognised her. He sat in the chair and waited for it to come to him.

_Lucas Logan joked around with a couple of guys, brushing down his horse, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he grinned at the woman facing him.  
"__Can I help you?"  
"__Agent Caitlin Todd, Secret Service."  
He snapped his fingers, getting it. "Ah, about the parade, right?"  
The president was doing a parade through New York City, and Lucas was leading the mounted police division on his protection detail. He'd been told to expect someone from the Service.  
"Right, you'll be coordinating with me for the next week."  
Smirking and raising his eyebrows, he said, "That suits me."  
She glared at him, in that feminist way he knew so well. It made him laugh that women interpreted him that way, and he didn't correct them, because that would just be too personal._

He'd liked working with Kate, by the end they'd gotten on quite well, but his horse had been shot and killed in an assassination attempt against the president, and that had distracted him from anything else for a while.

"Small world," he mumbled to himself.

He gave Ziva the photo of 'her' team at dinner, and she smiled and thanked him. It was a good night, everyone was there and they shared memories about McGee, laughing at the different sides of the man. Abby told anecdotes from when they'd been together, shocking Tash and Jamey who'd never know him be anything other than their boss. They recalled the adventure, five years ago, that had reunited Ziva with everyone else, and everything else in between. It was a good way to cleanse them, allow them to think about him without being depressed.

…

A nineteen year old Katlyn Black sat with three boxes of files and a typewriter in her room, unsure where to start. They'd been left to her, apparently, in McGee's will, and she'd cried for an hour when they'd first been delivered. Now though, methodically, she began to read. It went from carefully formatted files to scraps of paper with ideas scrawled across them. In the back was a letter.

_"Dear Kate,  
In the event of something happening to me, and with my job, it's not impossible, I've left these to you in the hope that you can finish Deep Six. The thought of leaving it incomplete is horrible, and there is no one I would trust with it other than you. I've told my agent and publisher to hear you out, and hopefully continuing my work (if you agree to) will give you a gateway to some publicity for your own.  
Best of luck,  
All my love,  
Tim"_

She felt herself begin to cry again, but resolutely pushed back the tears and grabbed a notepad and pen to draw up a rough plan of the next Deep Six book.

_..._

Jamey hobbled into work, a splint preventing her ankle from crumpling under her weight. Lucas looked up, in concern, but not surprise. Since 2/20, as the NCIS siege had become known, she seemed to have become accident-prone. She'd always tripped, or banged into something. He shared a look with Tash - they had been talking the previous night and he had asked her to speak to Jamey. He had tried to make it known to his senior field agent that he was there for her, but it was hard. He was still coping with Tim's death, with the responsibility of being a boss, with trying to keep up his own spirits, never mind those of others. The mood around NCIS had been mixed - it had of course been demoralised, but was now beginning to grow, almost like it was a fledgling agency, building itself up. But Jamey had just withdrawn further and further into herself for the past month. She did her work well, efficiently, almost obsessively pursuing perfection. But she didn't communicate or joke, or even indulge in technobabble. He knew she had been close to McGee when he died, close enough for his blood to spray over her. But there was more to it than that. He hadn't spent his working life investigating crimes without seeing a little post-traumatic stress, and a lot of guilt. And Jamey felt extremely guilty. He got up, heading down to the lab to talk to Terry and Abby, shooting Tash a meaningful glance. She nodded slightly.

"Jamey?"

The younger woman looked up. "Yes, Tash?"

"Tell me what's wrong," Tash continued, bluntly, but keeping her voice soft.

Jamey forced a grin. "Nothing's wrong, Tash, what are you on about?"

"The injuries - your ankle?"

"My ankle?" asked Jamey with a slightly embarrassed laugh. "God, I just forgot to take my foot out of the basket on my bike. Crash. Oops. No need to worry though, you're overreacting."

"And all the other injuries? You've been . . . odd, since the . . . attack."

"Well, I think we've all been odd since the attack," Jamey said, then lowered her voice as an idea came to her. "Look, I flashback from time to time, it distracts me, I make stupid mistakes that I wouldn't otherwise. But I'm getting better, Tash, it's just slow. I'll get there."

Tash looked slightly unconvinced, but smiled shakily and went back to work. Jamey let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

When Lucas returned to his desk he had an email from Tash, which he read through quickly before making his decision. This had to end. The day continued to crawl by, until he gave the nod for them to head home early. He nipped to the car park and mounted his Vespa scooter, setting off after Jamey, who had just hailed a taxi. He tailed it, staying a few cars behind, as he felt rather recognisable, until it stopped at a gym down a side alley.

He followed her in, pausing to listen as she paid the man at the front desk.  
"So soon?" the guy grinned at her. "Thought you'd be out for a while with that ankle, Jay."

"It's not so bad. Besides, I have to regain my _pride_, don't I?"

They guy smirked.

"You did take a bit of a beating. Are you sure you wanna spar today?"  
"Yeah, I'll go for it."

Once Jamey had disappeared into the changing rooms, Lucas went up to the desk.

"Hey, I heard from a friend you have a sparring session on at the moment? I've not been before but could I join in?"

The guy took his money and gestured him through.

Lucas looked around the gym, realising that this was where Jamey had sustained all her injuries. He watched her sparring with a young guy, and briefly wondered whether or not they had same/opposite sex rules here. Seeing his confusion, a coach on the side said,

"She's good. She can take it. We don't like to discriminate if we don't have to."

Lucas nodded absentmindedly as he continued to observe Jamey. The young guy got in quite a few good punches, but he felt a slight surge of pride as his agent beat him. Then a surge of anger at her stupidity as she bent down to fix up her _splint_. Jamey stayed in the ring, her opponent left. Seeing no other volunteers, Lucas stepped in.

"Good afternoon, Agent Mulgrew."

She looked up in shock. "Good afternoon, boss."

They both adopted a fighting stance. Jamey threw the first punch. Lucas blocked it easily with his forearm, and sent a low kick, which she dodged away from, but straight into a punch to the side of her head, pushing her into the border of the ring. She shoved herself up, recovering quickly. She tried not to think about how much her ankle was going to hurt – painkillers and adrenalin were helping her at the moment. Wincing at the thought, she propelled herself into a roundhouse kick to Lucas' stomach, hitting him straight in the centre, winding him and knocking him to the ground. She stared at her boss, rolling on the floor coughing, as the pain began to flood back, and she smiled. Lucas grinned up at her.

"That's more like it."

* * *

**Only 2 chaps to go! Wow, scary. **


	10. Silent Now

Being back in Poland without Fabian just felt wrong, like something had been misplaced, like one of those weird dreams that kind of mirrors real life but it's not quite real all the same. But they had to get used to it.

They cleared out his desk, together. There wasn't much in it, mostly work related, and a spare key to his house, which they were dreading going to. In the back of the bottom drawer they found the one thing that indicated sentimentality. A picture, carefully sketched, of the NCIS Gdynia team, standing out in colour against a black and white background of the NCIS building. They both remembered it. Jamey Mulgrew had drawn in five years ago, and Fabian had admired it when flicking through her sketches. She must have given it to him. He'd never said anything about it, but that was Fabian.

Tony smiled, and left it in Kathy's hand. She walked to her desk and slid it in the back of her bottom drawer.

A day or two passed, and then they couldn't delay going to Fabian's any longer. Kathy had never actually been, and Tony hadn't been for years – they tended to meet up at his house, with Lisa and the kids.  
Still, it didn't surprise either of them that the house was neat – but not impersonal. No, Fabian flooded every corner of it, the very essence of him was in ever piece of furniture, every picture on the walls, every colour of paint. Kathy couldn't help it, she laughed.

"I wonder if my apartment is this... me," she said.

Tony laughed too, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's powerful, huh?"

She nodded mutely, advancing through the corridors. And then she saw it. And she squeaked in alarm.

"Kathy what the he-_shit what's that?_"

"It's a snake, Gudek," Kathy said dryly, having recovered.

"Well no kidding," he bit back, tentatively putting a finger against the glass. The snake moved and he jerked away. "Did you know Fabian had a snake?"

Kathy gave him an incredulous look.

"We need to call Lucas," Tony said. "He'll know what to do."

"Yeah..."

She began to look through the drawers of the cabinet, finding snake care products and eventually an envelope, addressed to them.

"_Tony, Kathy,  
Jeżeli wy czytacie ten, JA jestem martwe. JA mogę przyjmować co. Wy będziecie przyjmować to też. Kocham was obydwa.  
Fabian"_

Kathy didn't even care that she was crying. Tony wrapped his arms around her automatically, and wondered how they would ever be able to move on.

...

The funeral was hard. The guests were NCIS agents, Tony's family, and Fabian's too. Hainreich, Sara, Tekla, Filip, Jakub, Marek, some others that they hadn't met before, and of course Adrianna, in pieces about the death of her favourite brother. Tony did the eulogy, speaking about the moment when he found out Fabian didn't drink coffee, the way he had come to be able to interpret the silence, and eventually, quietly, how Fabian's death had fitted his life – heroic, stoic, and ever-so-slightly rebellious. He choked up as he spoke, and eventually tears rolled down his cheeks, but he kept going.

Kathy spent the wake with Adrianna, comforting her and listening to her ran about her father and sister having the nerve to show. She was sure that in a few days, Adrianna would understand that just because Fabian had fought so much with his family didn't mean they didn't love him enough to want to go to his funeral.

Then she remembered the night that Fabian's father had fully rejected him, going down to the firing range and seeing the man fire shot after shot into a target, looking as near to tears as she'd ever seen him. It made Adrianna's anger easier to understand.

...

Marco stepped out of the elevator and sauntered up to the bullpen, an easy grin on his face. He stopped in the middle, facing Tony.

"Good morning," he said in a thick Spanish accent. "I am Agent Torres, are you Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"Yes."

Tony fixed the newcomer with a scowl, which appeared to slide off of him like water off a duck's back. He looked at Kathy, who grimaced. Though a month had passed, it seemed like so little time. No one wanted Fabian replaced. Agent _Torres _could at least have the decency to be uncomfortable.

"I am sorry." He for the first time faltered. "For your losses. I have had comrades in the Naval Services who died." He stopped, nodded, and then requested a desk.

Kathy and Tony grimaced, and Tony couldn't bring himself to say anything. Eventually, Kathy tilted her head toward the desk that had been Fabian's.

"Just there," she said.

"Thank you."

...

Lisa laughed, reading the inscription on the gravestone again. Jenny was sitting cross legged on the grass (after apologizing a few times to Fabian for sitting on him, staring at the granite.

The epitaph translated to _"Here lies Fabian Sawicki, brother, colleague, friend. He lies silent now in death. Not much has changed."_


	11. Nearly Lost

**Disclaimer: whateeeveer. **

**A/N: Final chapter of this fic! So weird. So here's the deal. I plan to do another Against The Clock like fic, but it might not be with a while, I'm getting over a bit of a writing haitius. So this is the final PROPER fic of the Time Series. :')**

**A/N2: Merry Christmas!**

**

* * *

**

Lucas Logan was well and truly sick of dealing with the director. The woman had _never _liked him, and as much as he tried to defend himself, she simply wouldn't believe a word he said. It drove him insane. Of course, today of all days, his temper was easily ignited. A year. A year full of anniversaries – a year ago today was McGee's last birthday, a year ago today was McGee's last Christmas Day... so it had gone on.  
"Agent Logan, it is not my fault you find it _impossible _to have common courtesy and - "  
"Listen to me, nothing happened with - "  
"- absolutely no ability to act like a decent human being -"  
"Nothing happened with your daughter!"  
It was the first time in a few years Lucas had brought up the incident (or, more accurately, non-incident) that had started this feud, and the director broke off her tirade.  
"Like I believe that!" she yelled instead.  
"FOR GOD'S SAKE, I'M ASEXUAL!"  
Silence fell. Lucas closed his eyes. He didn't need to see the faces of those in the bullpen below him to know what it looked like.  
Jamey and Tash caught each other's eyes from across the bullpen. Jamey thought of all the times she'd wondered if something was going on between Lucas and Tash – Tash thought pretty much of the same thing, and laughed.  
"Well, I didn't see that coming."  
The tension – created partly by what day it was and partly by what had just happened – was broken and soon others were laughing too. When Lucas opened his eyes, he was pleased to see the director looking mortified.  
"Perhaps... you and Agent Mulgrew should escort Officer Paul to the airport now," she said.  
"Perhaps you're right."  
Tash smiled, sitting on her suitcase, and took her last glance around NCIS. It had been a fantastic time – far longer than had been expected – but now she was going to go home. The date was unfortunate, but it wasn't up to her.  
Gibbs, Felicity, Ziva and Isaac met them there, since they all wanted to say goodbye too. Tash looked around everyone. It was hard, so hard, to build up a family and then leave them. She hadn't taken the decision lightly.  
"I'll miss you guys," she said, as Jamey pulled her into a hug.  
"Make sure you email," Jamey smiled.  
Tash fastened her arms around Lucas, saying close to his ear and quietly enough that others couldn't hear the statement, "You're a great boss, Logan."  
"I'll never let you forget you said that," he grinned.  
And so she made her way around everyone, and knew – knew without a shadow of a doubt, that she would see them again soon enough.  
The scene was familiar to Ziva – she had also left NCIS once, a long time ago. She'd known what she was being pulled back into, but not the extent to which it would separate her from her friends. Hopefully, Tash wouldn't have the same problems.  
"Don't let history repeat itself," she warned gently.  
Tash gave Ziva an incredulous look, knowing what she was referring to but unable to imagine ever letting herself fall out of contact, no matter what.  
"Are you mad?" she asked.

Kate looked around her. Gibbs had called and asked her to go the marina – without any explanation as usual. She never turned him down though. After all, he'd been letting her write in his basement for years, she owed him. The recently twenty-one year old had taken a day off university – her lecturers had understood, only a year had passed since she'd lost her mentor. A year in which she had published two Deep Six books – slowly completing the work of Thom Gemcity, as he'd asked. Her mum was finding it hard, as was only to be imagined. She didn't know how the team were coping. She switched off the car and stepped out to throw her arms around Gibbs. He held her, noting the tiny bit of moisture that crept from her eyes.  
"How you doing, Gibbs?"  
"I'm alright," he said, predictably, stroking a hand through her hair. "How're you, kid?"  
"Had better days," she managed, smiling despite the lump in her throat. "So what am I doing here?"  
Gently clapping a hand over her eyes, he steered her to the edge of the harbour.  
"Tah-dah," he said dryly, and let her see. "Happy twenty-first."  
A small wooden dinghy bobbed gently on the water, sail hanging loose around the mast. Kate's mouth dropped slightly open.  
"Oh. Oh wow. Gibbs you didn't have to... wow. Thank you. What's her name?"  
"Him," he smiled, pleased at her reaction. "Only boy boat on the water."  
She frowned in confusion and looked closer. "Timothy", read the cursive gold paint on the bow.

A year. A whole year. Tony honestly couldn't believe it had been that long. Torres, for all his faults (such as not being Fabian), had proved a capable agent, although his upbeat attitude took a bit of getting used to. Not many Marines or NCIS agents were so cheerful. It wasn't exactly unpleasant though. Different from Fabian's stony silence and macabre sense of humour – but it would have been harder to cope if the new agent had tried to be at all like the old.  
"Gudek, I've got something."  
Tony shot Kathy a small glare for breaking his train of thought, then nodded and stood to walk over to her desk. He skim read what was on her screen, hand resting on her shoulder – he was trying to be supportive today.  
"Alright people, let's head down to the harbour. Torres, get the car."  
"Yes, Gudek."  
The man wasn't stupid, he knew he was being sent away. Tony fixed Kathy with a steady, serious look.  
"How's Adrianna?" he asked – Kathy and Fabian's sister had only recently become an official item, but it had been going on longer than that.  
Kathy shrugged. "Okay considering. You know how it is."  
"And you're coping?"  
She smiled grimly. "As much as you are."  
Tony nodded slowly. "Let's go get this guy then."

They sat in Gibbs' basement – Lucas, Jamey, Abby, Simon, Kate, Cassie, Felicity, Lee, Jayme and the man himself – drinking in not-quite-silence. Cassie, eleven years old, sat with her head tucked in to her mother's chest. The atmosphere was oppressive, but it was nice to be together. Lucas' phone beeped.  
"Tash got home safe, sends her love," he said.  
After a muttered chorus of 'send her ours', the silence fell again for a few minutes.  
"So Lucas," Felicity said, beginning to smirk. "You guys never _were _sleeping together?"  
The asexual information had spread like wildfire.  
Lucas laughed loudly – which was perfect, and people fell into the light banter that usually characterized their gatherings. Gibbs slipped out the room.

_Too... old... for... this... _Tony couldn't help thinking as he sprinted after Torres – who was sprinting after the suspect.  
_Too small for this! _Kathy yelled mentally at her short legs as she took off on her boss' heels.  
As soon as he'd seen the badges, the man had taken off through the building. He worked on the site – scaffolding surrounded and soon the chase had become a lot more interesting than they would have liked. They clambered up ladders and balanced across planks (_thank god I'm not wearing heels, _Kathy thought), climbing up level and level of scaffold. Torres was the faster of the men, gaining on him slowly, no more than a meter now behind. And then he jumped. Swearing loudly in Spanish, Torres felt his feet slide on the wet wood. He tried to throw his weight backward – fall _on _to the ledge, but he slipped and reached out to grab the pole – then felt a hand fix around his wrist. Tony had thrown himself onto his stomach without thinking and lunged for his subordinate's arm. The jolt nearly pulled him off too, and Torres felt his shoulder pop out of its socket – the adrenalin stopped him from feeling the pain.  
"Give me your other hand, Probie," Tony grunted – it was only the second or third time he'd used that name for his newest team member.  
He hauled Marco Alonso Torres up on to the platform and then rolled over, breathing heavily.  
"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god," he heard, and began to laugh. "Don't _do _that to me!" Kathy yelled.  
"Sorry," Torres said sheepishly.  
"And never apologise," Kathy said crossly. "Let me look at your arm." She ran her fingers around the dislocated joint. "Yeah, we're going to need to take you to the hospital, have a doctor look at it to make sure..." she continued to mumble softly about medical help, and then when he'd relaxed, pushed and popped it straight back in.  
"Ah!"  
"Don't be a girl."  
Torres grinned, looking between Tony and Kathy. "So, does this mean I am part of the team now?"  
Kathy raised an eyebrow at her boss.  
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Tony said, clapping a hand on the man's good shoulder as he stood. "Now let's get down. And call the medical examiner, would you? Not everyone survived that."

Bodies mean paperwork. Anthony DiNozzo stared at the forms and reports and... oh god, it could wait. He stood and slipped into the elevator, hitting the stop button and sinking to the ground. _I nearly lost another one. _It was all he could think about. _I lost Kate, and Jenny, and McGee and Fabian, and I nearly lost Torres too. _His phone rang.  
"Hey, boss," he answered – surprised but pleased.  
"How you doing, DiNozzo?"  
Tony began to talk. He told Gibbs about the case, about Torres falling – about thinking, for just a split second, that he'd been too late.  
"You got plague, DiNozzo," his former boss reminded him. "And there was that time you hung from that multi-storey car park. Then you nearly got convicted of being a serial killer," at this point a slight laugh entered the older man's voice. "Do you get it now? You put me through hell."  
Tony smiled. "I'd apologise, boss, but then I'd just get into more trouble."  
There was a pause. "We're thinkin' of you. How are you guys doing over there?"  
He shrugged, even though there was no way for Gibbs to see. "I miss them, boss."  
The silence stretched out for a few seconds.  
"Yeah, Tony, me too."

* * *

**Love all my readers, but thanks to my friends: Tiva4evaxxx, dizzy-in-the-izzy, FadeIntoTheBackGround, Quacking Quarters, skycloud86 (I will catch up on those reviews, mate, promise).**


End file.
